The Steel Magnolia
by Evalena
Summary: REFORMATTED. Mulan is now eighteen. It's been six months since she last left Wu Zhong, and is going back, bringing the new title of captain with her. The Hun army has reappeared, but Mulan has other problems to face--like her General.
1. Chapter One

General Li Shang always stood tall. He owned a heart of stone, not unlike his expression during most times, and was ever diligent. Though he was known for his strength and bottomless skill, it was only with the presence of a woman that he was caught off guard. He was a man of procedure and strategy, but could form no plan to guard him against it.

Even the shapely young courtesans in his grand village were never defeated in their tasks of rising heat to his cheeks (at least, the dignified ones). There were none inside the walls of the academy that enveloped his time at younger age, so he was not prepared to battle against this towering challenge. They were dreamed about often, of course—among his comrades and him. They spoke of quiet, composed girls with flawless golden skin and lips that put the richest garden roses to shame. Curves defined like a razor edge, carrying hips easy to hold and breasts—

The young men stopped themselves there, each departing with rouge creeping into their complexions. During their studies, it was far from proper to speak of such things; they knew that they would receive women only the matchmaker of their parents had chosen for them. Dreaming was a waste of time for such men.

When the girl he had handled so toughly for the past four weeks appeared suddenly behind her honorable father, the composure he had beaten into himself vanished like evaporated moisture in one's breath. The blush he had long defamiliarized himself with returned so easily. He stuttered like an imbecile, until quickly realizing his actions and presented what he had come to give her. He had so foolishly forgotten that it was not truly hers, but her father's, and the idiotic chattering came again.

It was then that she had taken the piece if armor from his strong hands, coyly looked up at him, and invited him to dinner. He ignored the acrobatic somersaults in his chest at the offer her grandmother followed up with, and gracefully accepted the former offer.

The dinner, he remembered, went as unexpectedly as one could anticipate. Before it, he had managed to nearly break twelve obviously precious artifacts in the Fa household, only just saving a flowered vase an inch from the ground.

_Flower vase, _He mused later. It had been the translation of the girl's former alias, and he remembered his endless puzzlement as to why such a man as Fa Zhou would name his son such a feminine name.

During dinner, he had managed to nearly spew tea from his mouth twice (the first time at the mention of Mulan's lack of a husband, barely hiding his surprise, and the second time at the suggestion that he would make a fine husband for a lucky lady someday. Her grandmother was obviously a frisky woman.) The rice was exceptional, and no one had failed to mention that Mulan cooked it herself. The General was internally shocked at the thought of his former soldier knowing how to cook so well, although he said nothing.

A small dog had leapt into his lap during his dining, and Mulan scornfully removed him, scuttling off to feed the friendly animal. The General/Captain prayed to his ancestors so vigorously in his head when her dainty fingers nearly brushed the area a woman should not be near until marriage. Oh, did he pray.

When the time came for him to leave, Li Shang departed with a single phrase to the former Ping.

"I do not doubt we will meet again someday soon, Fa Mulan."

And, with a bow of his dignified head, his speckled Imperial stallion sped away at his heed, leaving the young girl within her thoughts.

Only six lunar cycles progressed until a similar stallion entered through the gate of the Fa residence with a message from the young captain, now a General, urgently asking that she return to his camp once more. Mulan nearly went into cardiac arrest when she read of the Huns' swift return to battle. Although, it didn't seem to be so much the effect of that statement—rather the mention of her promotion from soldier to captain.

She closed her lids in astonishment, struggling to fathom the hopeless Ping who scraped past every lesson he was given at the camp only so long ago to now have transitioned identities and looking to teach new hopeless recruits those same exercises. S_urely I'm not so honorable a fighter... _She questioned her superior's intentions, although truthfully doubting it was any other circumstance. But, she was still a young girl, and young girls were allowed to dream.

Within half a fortnight, she had arrived at Wu Zhong, disregarding the memories that pounded at her chest as she rode in on her trusted warhorse Khan. Looks of amazement followed her as she went to meet the General in his rather grand tent. Whispers surrounded her, not unlike they had when she returned home. They all wondered why she had returned, a woman who had scraped past the law and also the heroine of China. At least one title was honorable.

The General was hunched over a miniature map of China and its surrounding terrains, representative figurines here and there. When he looked up, he saw a girl in a modest female dress, almost expecting her to be in captain's uniform. Then, he remembered he had failed to send it with his letter.

"The new uniform suits you, General," she said coyly in greeting, her brow raising as his did. Maybe the trait was passed on with the rank.

"As I hope yours will, Captain Fa." He straightened his back, recognizing his posture to be unworthy in such a creature's presence. He turned and picked up the wrapped parcel, bequeathing it to her with a slight bow of his head.

He watched her face glow with pride and amazement. Her skin tone began to resemble that of which he used to dream of.

Waiting for her to tuck the bundle under her arm, he began to explain the situation at hand. "The reassembled Hun army have attacked in these pivotal places on China's borders." He pointed to the three places he spoke of. "They are anticipated to be twice as large as before, which leads us to believe that Shan Yu only came with about a third or so of his original army—and I'm sure you remember how many _that_ was."

Mulan swallowed the lump of stress gathered in her throat. It might take more than one cannon and a snowy mountain to defeat them this time.

"Though, our troops have grown in size as well, considering how we weren't the only troops left, and two alliances have been formed by the Emperor's hand—including Mongolia. We hope they will show the Imperial army to be a great help." The dignified General scratched lightly above his knit brows. His dark and slanted eyes scanned Mulan's expression, which had softened with relief from what it had been before. "You have the responsibility of training many of the troops housed here."

The young girl knew better than to say anything, though still analyzing her own competence and ability to achieve her duty at hand.

"C'mon, Mulan. If I hadn't thought you would be worthy of the job, I wouldn't have recommended you to the Emperor. Don't look so unsure." Li Shang's seldom-used light tone of voice startled Mulan, though reassuring her. It seemed he had read her mind as well.

"Now, go change and show the soldiers their place." He escorted her from his tent, placing a firm hand on her shoulder and then retreating. Little did the intelligent General know that she intended to show them their place in her current attire.

* * *

The camp grounds were loud, small brawls in different places and boisterous soldiers bragging about themselves to others. In shadows, she practiced Shang's authoritative figure and tone he had often used with her so many weeks ago. When she perfected the task, she went to address the soldiers.

"Soldiers!" She bellowed, power surging through her small frame as the rowdy men meekened themselves, now standing in a pristinely straight line. She inspected them through her almond eyes, each and every one of them with backs straighter than a staff of bamboo.

"I will not accept such unruly behavior in my camp. I doubt that any of you are fit to face even half of a Hun, and until you are, you are not permitted to act as such. If you understand me, be silent."

Not a word was uttered, and Mulan smirked triumphantly.

"Very good. As you know, we cannot waste time, so your training begins tomorrow. I expect you all here when the sun is immediately risen. You are dismissed."

The many men grumbled quite audibly as they each retreated to their respective actions, resuming quietly. Mulan, nodding in contentment, started back to pitch her tent. Sadly, said tent was to be pitched to the immediate left of General Li Shang's in the event that she could easily be reached when there was urgent news. Though she was able to pitch her tent in half the time she formerly could, it benefited her very little, now giving her too much time on her hands. She was always taught in childhood that idle hands were the work of evil, so she chose to use the time to admire herself in the sparkling captain's uniform, sculpted to fit snugly against her lithe female form. Obviously, someone knew of her preferred colors, as the cape was not red but green of the forest trees. She had mused many a time that it suited her skin more than that awful crimson...

In the early morning, her white nightclothes were replaced by a fitting camp uniform. Mulan preferred her attire to be fitted—she wished not to hold sparring matches wearing something similar to the tent she slept in. She picked up the plain comb she had brought, ready to swoop her hair into a topknot—until she concluded that it was best she didn't. The soldiers must get used to her female identity, or it wiuld continue to be awkward for the duration of training.

She exited swiftly, disappointed that she found her men in the same state as yesterday. Loud and obnoxious, they brawled with each other, much like her comrades had on that first morning of training when she was simply a lowly soldier, the lowest of ranks on the ladder. And now, as she stared in exasperation at the many men now inferior to her, she couldn't help but internally yield to the nervousness mercilessly gripping her stomach. She told herself she had to stay composed. This would be a very long training period, and if she didn't feel her best, her fears and trepidations would only get worse.

Mustering up all the voicepower her chords could withstand, she recalled the way her former leader had addressed his troops that first morning and put it to use. If it worker for him, it had no reason not to work for her, she thought, momentarily forgetting her gender and stature.

"Gentleman!" The men caught her haughty and authoritative expression, once more lining up to form an immaculate roll call. The nervousness in her gut wavered slightly at the sight of this.

"You are to assemble swiftly and silently every morning. Anyone who acts otherwise—" she paused to set her bundle of arrows down on a nearby xiongqi table, pulling one lone slender arrow. "—will answer to me."

A young and deep voice rang through the tense air.

"Ooh, how tough."

Mulan remembered distinctively how her friend Yao had remarked similarly to her former captain seven months ago. H_ow perfect,_ she thought. _This might work better than I anticipated._

"Chun," she recognized the voice as one the General had addressed yesterday. She aimed the arrow at the young man, and the rest of the soldiers stepped back to leave only him standing out. His eyes widened to the circumference of a dinner plate, until she shot the arrow with extreme accuracy to the top point of the pole that still stood in the middle of Wu Zhong.

"Thank you for volunteering. Retrieve the arrow."

Behind the thick canvas curtain of his majestic tent, General Li Shang smiled with pride at the tiny woman who was repeating every word he had said in his first exploit as captain. He never expected her to stand as tall as she could with such pride, learning slowly how to mask the fear he knew she possessed inside her tiny body. Even though he should have had the lead over these troops, he wanted to see how well she would train this rag-tag group of clumsy recruits. You might call it payback for the first week of exasperation she had caused him.

Nai Chun, a pompous and disrespectful teenager from Ling's village, held his head high and cracked his knuckles, stalking to the pole and preparing to jump on it. Mulan heard the smothered chuckles of the Gang of Three and a few soldiers that had known her from their first battles with each other as comrades. His naivety almost made her giggle.

"Wait, you seem to be missing something!" She beckoned Yao, who strainfully held a heavy rectangular box in his stubby hands. In it were two bronze weights, each weighing approximately 25 pounds. Nai Chun glared silently at her with features contorted in surprise.

She held up one of Chun's thick wrists high above her head, fastening one of the bronze weights to it. "This represents discipline," she had echoed Li Shang's exact words as she dropped Chun's right wrist, ignoring as the rest of his arm dropped to the earth with it. "And this represents strength." She dropped his left wrist, suppressing a laugh as his arms were pinned to the hard ground. The combination of that and his cross expression gave him the appearance of a gorilla. "You need both to reach the arrow."

Her back was turned to him, but she heard his low growl as he scrambled up the wooden pole, only to noisily drop back to the earth again. Soldier after soldier attempted to achieve this task, and much like before, not a one did so. She shook her head, sighing in hopelessness as she rubbed the back of her neck.

After every soldier was finished attempting to retrieve the wretched arrow, she tossed a long stick of bamboo to each soldier in the line. She used both ends of her stick to toss up large ceramic jugs, skillfully balancing force and flexibility to smash both within a split second of each other. Her ears filled with astounded gasps of the men; the rumors they had heard weren't rumors. She nearly outdid any chosen captain of the Imperial army's troops, previously defeating even Shan-Yu himself.

She found that the soldiers were clumsier than camels that stood on one foot, some even dropping their staffs simply trying to hold it out in front of them. She assumed them worse off than she was at the beginning of training. But of course, she was to be stuck with the younger ones. Mulan had never seen anyone as uncoordinated in all her nineteen years.

She was beginning to understand the General's stress, and admired him no less than she did the Emperor.

The position of Captain was beginning to prove impossible for her.

* * *

It was dark now. The moon had shown its beautiful face, surrounded by twinkling stars that decorated the deep blue sky. _Pity the others aren't awake to see it..._ she thought, her eyes narrowing with the slightly evil smile on her face.

It was long into the night. Everyone else she knew of was back in their tents sleeping more soundly than a mossy rock. She was the lone exception as she sat on top of a large hill, gazing up at the sky serenely. If the sky stretched out so far, only the gods knew what lay underneath it. This thought thrilled Mulan, somehow wishing she could see it all before she died. It was only a wish, though, she mused. For now, she was fine knowing about the land she lived on.

The quiet night breeze eased her hair into her face, caressing her pale cheeks with its raven tendrils. She brought up a slender finger to keep it from obstructing her view.

_It's no wonder everyone's always writing about that thing._ The moon was abnormally bright tonight. Small waves threw themselves at the shores, a sound soft and mollifying to her tired ears.

Mulan giggled softly as she thought back on her day. The 'men' scoffed and snorted when she taught them the Final Admonition. _"Fulfill your duties calmly and respectfully,"_ She had told them. _"Reflect before you act, and this shall bring you honor and glory."_ Chun had remarked on the relevancy of the phrase to their position, and an exasperated Mulan was forced to explain that in military situations, one must always keep composed and think before taking action. That might not have been what it meant to the women, but it was an adequate motto for soldiers.

A subtle moonlight kissed her skin, the white orb reflecting in the pupils of her eyes. It seemed so close, like she could reach out and touch it. But she knew how far away it must have been. Thousands, maybe millions of miles. Someday, she'd try to find out exactly how far.

She was still thinking about the distance when a voice interrupted her thoughts from behind her.

"Big, isn't it?"

The voice belonged to her general. She knew it. Her head whipped around with such an alacrity that her hair had trouble keeping up; her eyes were as wide as the moon she pondered about. Scornful amusement was written across his handsome features. His famous left brow was raised higher than she ever could have fathomed, and a small smile tugged at the corner of his full salmon lips.

"Sha - Gene - I - I was just- "

"Do you know how lucky you are that I'm not an enemy? As such a celebrated personage, your head would be a very prized possession, and a predator would have it in his hands before you could blink if you're that inattentive on the battlefield."

The deepest crimson furiously laced itself through her cheeks, giving her a rather plum complexion in the dim moonlight. His arms were folded neatly across his partially exposed chest, and his foot tapped impatiently on the ground. She had just been caught red-handed, like a child who had dipped in the cookie jar and had been found with crumbs on her chin, or had just broken an expensive vase and was holding it behind her back.

He left out a soft exhalation.

"Mulan, why aren't you in your tent?"

"Shouldn't I be asking you the same?"

"I came out to follow you. Now answer my question."

Her gaze averted to the ground, before she quickly brought it back to meet his.

"It's so beautiful out tonight. I couldn't just sit in my tent and miss it."

Li Shang's expression softened. He knew the night was beautiful. There wasn't a cloud in the dark sky, and the stars twinkled like diamonds scattered across fine black silk. Where she was perched on her rock by the pond, he could see the distorted reflection of the glowing moon in the water. Yes, the scenery was admittedly beautiful, but it wasn't safe for her out here. He knew there could be Huns hiding anywhere—in the brush, underwater, in a tree, _anywhere._

His dark eyes scanned her small profile. Her dainty face was only partially illuminated in the pale moonlight. He tried so hard to push the image of her being hurt or in danger from his mind.

"Mulan, go back to your tent."

She nodded. It wasn't angry, scornful, hateful, haughty—it was gentle, a tone so uncharacteristic for a man like Shang. She softly tread on the grass that tickled her feet, tiptoeing up the hill to the path that led back to Wu Zhong. He watched her scurry away, her nightskirts blowing delicately with the gentle breeze, doing his best to ignore the painful tugging inside his chest as her movements seemed to express sadness. He truly wished she was able to enjoy the landscape more, but as her superior, he was obligated to protect her. He would have done it anyway had rank never been a factor.

Taking a last glance at the moon, he followed.

* * *

Mulan hopped into her tent, taking great care to make sure that the canvas flap made no noise. The size of her tent was substantial; she had been generously provided with blankets of wool and silk to keep her warm through the biting chill of the night. Her entire body froze as a small lump moved from under them.

"Man, how the hell do you— AH! My tail! I—"

"Mushu?"

The small outline of a tiny dragon's head poked out from under these covers.

"Mulan? Could you help out your ol' guardian pal and git these offa me?"

Removing the blankets, Mulan glared down at her tiny ancestral guardian.

"Care to explain what you're doing here?"

"You know I couldn't let you go off anywhere without my help! Remember, if there were no Mushu, there would be no Mulan: Heroine of China."

"Shh!" Mulan reminded her lizard-like friend that tones must be kept to a whisper.

"Mushu, quit being so loud! You could wake someone up!"

Mulan huffed.

"We have to talk about why you're here later. For now, it's bed."

She dropped his limber body on the ground beside her makeshift bed, pulling the blanket over herself and turning her back to him.

"G'night, Mulan," he said with a yawn, climbing under the covers and snuggling against his friend.

Yet, he only found himself squished five minutes later as a sleeping Mulan decided to roll back over.

"You—you COW!"


	2. Chapter Two

The bright sun peeked its peach face halfway above the horizon, casting its saturated light upon the rocky cliffs and trees. Creatures big and small awoke to this newfound daytime that was swallowing the land around them. As the slowly rose higher, shadows crept away to let orange illumination drench the once white tents. The light seeped through the cloth to brighten the inside. There were no sounds to be heard, not even birds chirping musically in the distance. The silence gave the area a peaceful aura. At this scenic time, only one soul was awake, yet soon to be three.

"WAKE UP, SISTA!"

Mulan groaned as Mushu shouted in her ear. She threw the pillow over her head, trying in vain to muffle the sound. Mushu jumped up and down elatedly beside her tousled head.  
Cri-Kee squeaked in annoyance to her left, springing up and putting his hands on his hips. His insect face was scowling at his thin red friend. _Some friend,_ he thought.

"C'mon, c'mon! Up up up!" We got a full tray of fresh new recruits to whip into shape!"

Mushu scowled as Mulan failed (or simply refused) to move. Stripping her of her blankets, he pushed the neatly folded pile of training clothes towards her.  
Rubbing her eyes, the blurry scarlet silhouette of her guardian slowly came into view. She scratched her messy head and scowled at him, desperately praying for him to stop yammering on about the 'fresh new recruits'. She angrily (and somewhat drunkenly) smacked him against the wall of the tent before she proceeded to change.

The sun still wasn't fully risen when she left her tent. Stretching her arms, she looked out; the rows upon rows of tents were the picture of tranquility. They were uniform, each of identical size and color to its neighbor. Only hers and Shang's tents were different, even different from each other--one a hair larger than the other. Speaking of the man, she hadn't noticed him emerge from the adjacent tent.

Shang observed her delicate figure. The still-rising sun shone upon her face to give her skin an apricot glow, making her complexion an embodiment of beauty. Her eyes were still dewy from the morning haze, and when she turned to greet him, her soft smile was still bright enough to light up the Emperor's Grand Hall. His only instinct was to smile back—if not out of politeness, then at the sight of something so pleasant.

As the sun slowly ascended higher into the sky, soldiers began to awaken, few by few. Mulan watched the repetitive procession: come out of the tent, yawn, stretch, walk away. It wasn't long before their daily brawl had begun.  
She looked uneasily at Shang, who wore a slight smirk as he beckoned her with his eyes. She sighed inwardly as she walked past him to confront the pile of warriors.

"Gee, I wonder what happened to 'swiftly and silently'?" she wondered loudly over the pandemonium.

Upon the sound of her voice, a slight expression of fear and/or disdain crossed many faces before the soldiers aligned again.  
She walked back and forth, inspected the row; young and old, inexperienced and seasoned, it was a melting pot of age and knowledge. There were boys who didn't look a day older that 13 and men who looked to be a few years younger than her father. Both of these sights pulled at her heartstrings a bit, but she put the most precious thing she had learned from Shang into action—never show weakness around your inferiors.  
Feeling Shang's eyes on her back, it was only at this moment that she remembered her negligence to plan today's training. Oh well, she thought. Today's lesson would just have to be extemporaneous. She summoned a young camp guard, whispering strict instructions to him and then sending him off to the supplies tent before turning back to face the soldiers.

She marched the men away to a brush-secluded area near the cliffs, where planks, arrows, and pomegranates were awaiting them. Three fruits were weighing down one end of each plank, which was propped up on a small rock. The bow and arrows lay beside it.

Some men were confused, others groaned. One singular man in the back smiled and laughed.

She picked up three arrows from a nearby quiver. Shutting one eye so as to focus, she stomped on the free end of the plank, and shot the arrows through the fruits with impeccable aim. Her inferiors marveled as the fruits hit the targets painted on the tree dead-on. Mulan smirked as a chorus of gasps and "How does she _do_ that?" reached her ears.

After her demonstration, she had gotten her pupils set up and was now patrolling the row, correcting formation and giving aim tips. Aside from her three, only one other person had gotten his fruits on the targets, though Mulan hadn't been able to catch who. She could guess, though, when she saw his broad shoulders and glistening bare back, his arm poised to shoot another round.

"Shang?"

He turned his head towards her and smiled, lowering his bow.

"Shang, what are you doing here?"

"I wanted to see how skilled a teacher the illustrious Captain Fa was."

Mulan was confused, this whole situation beyond comprehension to her. Shang was her superior, the _General,_ yet here he was, under her tutelage. It was still only her second day here, and things were getting much weirder than she wanted them to.

"Shang, this is absolutely ridiculous. You were the one who taught me all of this yourself. Now go—"

"Shh," he put a finger to his lips. "I'm trying to concentrate."

Mulan watched in shock and disbelief as Shang arranged three more pomegranates on the edge of his plank, shooting them directly into the tree once again. Finally, defeated, she threw her hands up and stalked off, rolling her eyes and going to fix the way a recruit was standing.

Later on in the exercise, Chi Fu had appeared with his ever-present clipboard and calligraphy brush, looking haughtily upon the failing soldiers and stopping every once in a while to take a note. Mulan was irked by his presence, but decided to disregard it as she worked with the soldiers. When a recruit failed yet again under instruction, Chi Fu would let out a 'hmph' of disapproval and went back to his clipboard. _Silly little bat,_ Mulan thought with a scowl.

Mulan was working with Mu Pao, a recruit no more than a week older than fifteen, when it happened. She had managed to shift his arm into the proper position, but his arm jerked suddenly as he let go of the arrow. Mulan had tried to warn Chi Fu of the speeding arrow, but it was too late as his loud, feminine shriek pierced the air. She would not be surprised if many of the glass cups back at camp had shattered with that sound.  
She held her hands over her eyes, and when she removed them, she found the scrawny man passed out on the ground, an arrow sticking out from his right foot.

Chien-Po picked him up and carried him back to the medic's tent. Mulan suppressed maniacal laughter as she returned to her pedagogy.

* * *

"Mulan, what the hell's the matter with you? Don't you remember what happened last time?!"

Mushu trailed at Mulan's heels, whining profusely about her poor choice of time to bathe. Mulan resisted the urge to stomp on him, untying the sash to her soldier's uniform and removing it piece by piece..

"Calm down, Mushu. I'm a lot safer now. If anybody comes down, I'll be mostly covered by the water, and when they see who I am, they'll be so embarrassed they won't have anything else to do except run away."

"Mulan, it seems as though you do not remember that YOU ARE A WOMAN! These are men, girl! Sex-deprived man plus one unmarried woman equals disaster!"

She glared down at her 'guardian'.

"I can take care of myself, thank you."

Mushu huffed stubbornly, rolling his eyes and turning to occupy his post. Khan, also snorting in disapproval, stepped in front of his mistress dutifully to guard her from prying eyes anyway. Mulan threw her uniform over a nearby branch, and then draped her towel on Khan's neck before jumping into the cool water, splashing everyone present. Her body made large ripples in the pond, which disappeared as she swam away.

She dipped her head back into the cool water, scrunching her fingers through her hair so as to dislodge the dirt. The last time she had truly washed her hair was when preparing for the matchmaker's seven months ago, she thought in horror. It was a wonder it didn't smell like panda droppings by now.

The water was refreshing and cool on her skin, like a breeze in the summer. Droplets of moisture stayed on her skin for minuscule seconds, then slid freely down until joining the rest of the water. She rubbed her wet arms vigorously, scratching at mysterious spots of caked mud on her skin. She wondered how on Earth she could have gotten this dirty so quickly. But, it seemed, everything was a mystery lately.

Back on the shore, Mushu had engaged Cri-Kee in many fair matches of Tic-Tac-Toe in the dirt. Khan, who was grazing on an odd spot of grass, raised his head and picked up his ears when he heard distant whooping. He snorted worriedly in the direction of Mushu, but alas, the red dragon guardian paid him no attention. Then, Khan's eyes widened and his wildly flailing tail dropped limply in horror, his snorting halted. Mulan's three comrades were running down the path without clothing on.

Mulan picked up on the sound instants later, taking a risky peek at the shore and then darting behind a rock at warp speed.

Yao, Ling, and Chien-Po shouted loudly as they cannonballed into the water, sending huge waves rolling throughout the calm pond that bubbled to a stop where she hid. They shortly engaged in a splash fight, drowning each other in the clear waters. The men acted rowdily and noisily, but even so Mulan stayed very still, making sure not to create any sound that would give her away.

As she looked around frantically, a tall figure not far from the Gang of Three had come down the path, a towel draped over its arm. She could clearly deduce his gender, what with there not being women in thousands and thousands of li (aside from her of course). His hair slightly brushed his shoulders as he removed the cloth ribbon from it. Even though her situation was serious, she struggled to suppress a wistful sigh at the sight of him. She quickly brushed those thoughts away. She had other imposing problems.

After she had realized her lapse of ogling, she hid herself completely behind the curtain of stone.

A sense of dread rose in her as she felt a sneeze summoning itself to her nose.

_Oh, this was not a good idea..._ She thought, the pressure of the sneeze hovering ominously in her head.

_No, no, no no no no..._

She couldn't hold it in any longer. "AaahCHOO!" The sound of her high-pitched, dainty sneeze permeated through the air, just loud enough to catch the attention of all four men in her midst. Their eyes immediately were fixated to the rock she hid behind.

"Did you hear that?" Ling asked quietly.

"It didn't sound like anything from around here..." Chien-Po replied, a quizzical tone to his voice.

Horror spread across their features; realization permeated their minds, and a moment of silence drifted through the air around the Gang of Three.

"It sounded like...like a woman."

Yao's voice trembled, almost losing its gruffness momentarily. They all knew there was only one woman in the vicinity. Though it was almost hopeless, they silently prayed it was only an animal. Their general, however, decided to take different actions.

"Who's there?" he called, burying any evident trace of trembling deep into his diaphragm. Mulan held her breath, not even bothering to breath through her nose, most likely turning blue. _Be veeery still,_ she thought to herself. _Don't even move. Not...one...inch..._

She was desperately yearning to peek out from behind the rock, just to see where her consorts stood. But, seeing as that would reveal her, she stayed put. Though, this proved hard, as random itches sprung up all over her skin. In any other situation, she would scratch once and the itch would be forgotten, but in a moment of pure silence such as this, one move she made would be immediately detected by the sharp ears of her friends.

"I said, _who's there?_ Answer now, that is an Imperial order."

Mulan's heartbeat reverberated around the walls of her skull. One couldn't deny an Imperial order; being a person of relatively esteemed rank, she more often than not used this to her advantage. It now seemed to be turning on her.

As she slowly peered out from behind the rock, the first thing that came into view were the Gang of Three; they were looking dreadfully and intently at the rock she stood behind. She was able to see them before they saw her, but when they did spot her, it took them a moment before they reeled back in shock.

And then, when her head was fully visible, Shang caught sight of her.

This was awkward indeed, he thought to himself, despite the embarrassed expression growing on his face. Here was the [b]**woman**[/b] he admired and had recently promoted to captain of the Imperial Army, naked and hiding behind a rock (from him, he might add). _Oh yeah,_ He had to remember. _I'm naked, too._

The color drained from everyone's face when Mulan made her presence known. It took all the strength Shang could muster (and that was a lot) to keep himself from imagining what her form might have looked like underneath the water.

Mulan, remembering that her towel was still draped over Khan's back, contemplated on how to get out without exposing anything embarrassing. The water was too deep for Khan to come to her rescue, and she was not about to remove herself uncovered. It would just seem silly to ask them to turn around while she jumped out. Someone else would just have to bring her the towel.

Almost as if reading her mind, Shang called out, "Do you need your towel?"

Her head still in place, she nodded quickly. Shang felt the biting sensation of blood rushing to his face as his gaze never left her. Stuttering slightly, he asked, "Wh-who would you be most comfortable with bringing it to you?"

This question forced Mulan to halt her thoughts and think about his question. Who would she want to bring it to her? Having Shang do it was out of the question; she wanted to prevent as much awkwardness as possible, though some would be inevitable. She was in deep water, so keeping the towel dry and swimming simultaneously would prove impossible for Yao, and if she knew Ling well enough, he wasn't the most skilled swimmer. Through process of elimination, she was able to choose who.

"Chien-Po," she called softly, barely audible from were her comrades were standing. The corpulent man nodded, scanning the land behind him for a towel. He was finally able to lay his eyes on it, but it was on the back of Mulan's troublesome horse. Chien-Po breathed, then whistled for the muscular black horse. Khan neighed in disapproval, sharply turning away from the man.

"Khan, please give him the towel."

Upon hearing his mistress's pleading voice, the horse rolled his eyes and reluctantly trotted down the sandbar, letting Chien-Po pull the towel away. The man waded carefully out to Mulan's rock, looking away politely as he held out the towel. He nodded as her barely audible but grateful thanks met his ears, feeling the weight of the towel being relieved from his outstretched arm.

Mulan wasted no time. Hastily wrapping the towel around herself, she dove under the water and reappeared near the shores, barreling past Shang and scurrying back to the camp. Mulan ignored Mushu's constant reprimands as she threw herself inside her tent and dressing herself as quickly as possible, using a nearby robe to truly dry herself.

"That's the last time I take a bath for a looong time." she huffed through labored breath.

* * *

_The air reeked. It was an almost salty stench, permeated in areas with the distinctive scent of blood. The smell of death._

_One by one, Hun warriors freed themselves from blood-sprinkled snow, their bone-chilling cries echoing against mountain walls. Her face, pallid, drained of any color it held, now showed only true horror. Her form reflected in their hungry yellow eyes._

_Their clothes were torn, open wounds bitten at by harsh teeth of the frigid cold. Their heavy exhalations wisped out in front of their scarred faces, breathing so hard air came from noses and mouths. Pair upon pair of eyes glared at her, charging for her, willing her blood to be coating their twisted silver swords._

_She stood rigid, rooted to the spot. Something kept her feet from moving._

_Her head snapped to the side, glowing brown eyes darting around in search of her superior, her captain, the man she dared call friend. She found him at last, only to be met with eyes of the purest cold, colder than the mountain air surrounding them, his head shaking in poorly concealed disdain. He would not help her._

_Suddenly, her face was painted, her body no longer wearing the armor of a soldier, but the silken dress of a courtesan, something a girl her age would wear to the matchmaker's test. She was but a country girl again, and somewhere in the distance, creeping closer, she could hear the laughs of the villagers, disgracing her family down to the gong-ringers._

_Her father's agonized voice appeared beside her: "Why did you leave, Mulan? Why do you dishonor your family so?"_

_She looked to him in panic; two gaping, bleeding holes stood where wise eyes had once been._

Mulan awoke with a start. Sweat cascaded down her face, and her ears rung violently. The night air danced its way through threads of her tent material, caressing her arms and running bony fingers down her spine. Her head pounded, like demons had trapped themselves inside her skull.

Mulan realized—it was all a nightmare. She was at camp.

Her heart gave an unexpected jolt at the sound of frantic footsteps outside her tent. Cold air from a windy night rushed inside, stinging Mulan's tired, teary eyes as a tall, blurred figure immediately (and seemingly out of nowhere) was at her side.

"Mulan? Mulan, look at me. Are you alright?" Blindly, she nodded; she felt a warm liquid dripping from her eyes onto her cheeks.

"Are you sure? What happened? Are you hurt?" The voice was soft, hushed, so unlike what she was used to hearing from him. Even in her stupefied state, she could identify the voice. She could not, however, identify the tone.

She wiped the salty water from her bloodshot eyes, finding her focus and meeting an expression that she never saw on him: pure, undiluted worry.

Slowly becoming more and more coherent, she managed to squeak out a denial. Mulan could barely hear herself—the ringing in her ears was nearly blocking out all sounds. _Where is that coming from?_ She wondered. Then, she realized—she had screamed.

"N-n-nightmare...H-Huns everywhere, wanting to-to kill me," she stuttered. "I wanted you, b-but you said n-n-no, and Baba—"

"Shh, Mulan, you're babbling." Shang put his hands on her shoulders, desperately attempting to get her shaking body to calm down. "Your scream scared us half to death! We thought you had been murdered!"

_After that, I wish I had been,_ she thought morbidly.

"Do you need anything?" Shang asked quickly. She had barely let the word 'water' pass her lips when he sent Ling to go get some.

Mulan felt herself shaking violently. She doubted it was the cold, though her skin rippled with goosebumps as air pumped in and out of the tent. Her body calmed as the water passed through her lips and glided easily down her throat, though freezing air still seeped through her pores and down to her very core.

Mulan only just became aware of Shang's eyes scrutinizing her as she finished off the water. Looking discreetly beside her, she caught his gaze, his stern eyes laced with worry. She finally realized the extent to which she must have scared him. Taking a deep breath, she answered his unasked question. "I'm fine."

Physically, she was; emotionally, she could not be sure.

Mulan doubted she would ever again have so horrible a nightmare. She knew from the moment she thought coherently that it would mar her for a very long time, if not forever. Remembering the hungry eyes of the Huns sent paralyzing sensations down her spine. They had, after all, provoked memories she desperately wanted to throw to the wind, for reasons that need no explanation.

Shang had soon after nodded and rose, despite the doubt stifled behind his eyes, taking a last look back at Mulan's form before briskly (though seemingly reluctantly) left Mulan to herself once more, taking all the soldiers conjugated around the tent with him. Mulan sighed heavily, engulfing herself in the covers and willing herself to return to sleep as soon as possible. She soon found out this would not be so feasible, desperately fearing that any nightmares should come.

Her voice tremoring slightly, she began to sing the words to a lullaby her mother sang to her when she was an infant. She found herself drifting away, allayed into sleep by the sound of her own humming. This time, no dreams followed her into the next world.

* * *

The black falcon spread its wings, circling above its owners. It dark body was a contrast to the ominous grey clouds overhead. These clouds were extending over China and across her borders, threatening to release its torrential wrath at any second. The shrill falcon's cry pierced the air as it swooped down to perch on a shoulder.

A thousand Huns stared at the back of their leader, a fifth of the man's army. They were a mass of grey skin and unblinking yellow eyes, furs of wild animals draped over their shoulders, murderous expressions displayed upon their reprobate profiles. Bai Shen turned to face his faithful followers, those who were ready to heed his every command at an instant.

"Bai Shen, when do we attack?" one of the many barked. "We have been waiting long, and the Emperor has not let up."

Shen rubbed his chin in contemplation.

"The old man is stubborn," he replied. "But he cannot resist the strength of our army for much longer."

The hulking man turned back to face the majestic mass of stone that stood in their way on the path to conquering China. His army had been stationed at the foot of this wall for many weeks. It would be easy for them to scale the Great Wall, but would prove much less feasible to get any further. The Imperial Army had joined forces with two other kingdoms to rebuild itself after the previous fiasco from six months ago, and would prove even harder to beat this time. Still, the threat of Bai Shen and his abundant army hung over China's head like the clouds that were swallowing her at that moment.

Finally, the man spoke.

"We shall give him a lunar cycle. If he is still persistent, we attack."

His pale yellow eyes surveyed the terrain in front of him.

"What of the woman warrior, Fa Mulan? How will she be taken care of?" another man inquired. Bai Shen smiled a wicked smile at the sound of that name—the name of the killer of his predecessor.

"Ah yes, Fa Mulan." he chuckled.

"She will be treated with extra care."


	3. Chapter Three

*_WHUMP*_

"Owww..."

Nai Chun lay sprawled across the grass, his limbs stretched out around him. He squinted up through the sun's glare at the smirking face of his secondary commanding officer, Fa Mulan, who was shaking her head at his useless attempts to best her.

"Don't squint so much next time," she with a soft laugh in her voice. He got up and rubbed his rear, mumbling something unintelligible about the 'damned sun'. Her laugh grew louder as he limped away.

It had so far been a month and a half since Mulan had arrived. In the beginning, soldiers such as Chun had been disrespectful, disbelieving, disdainful, and many other words beginning with the prefix 'dis-'. Some of them still found the gall to act as such, but the rest of them had gathered some sense of respect and faith, and were able to treat her like a commanding officer, not a silly woman. They had realized that she wasn't a renowned hero for no reason. This had been proved by many attempts to beat her at _anything_, anything at all—each and every one a failure. By besting her own soldiers, she had managed to win their admiration, just like she had with her comrades seven months ago. Of course, deja vu was not an uncommon feeling lately.

Recently, Mulan had found herself copying off of some of Shang's leadership techniques to get her men in line. When she would realize it, she shrugged it off, thinking that if it worked for him, it could work for her. It was the same thought that had run through her head when she struck his trademark authoritative pose that first day, a pose that she would soon adopt as her own. That, and the drills that ran long into the night as punishment for a smart remark or two. She could be considered a cruel officer, but whatever methods it took to whip one's men into shape, she had already used twice, and even invented some more.

Glancing at the sun's position in the sky, watching it try to hide beneath the horizon, she decided today's fun was over.

"Gentlemen, I want you here at sun's peak tomorrow," she shouted to her scattered soldiers. She smirked as an idea she had been toying with came to her mind.

"Keep a close eye out for me, though. You may not recognize me tomorrow."

Suppressing an evil laugh, she started back towards her tent to study Sun Tzu before bed.

* * *

The next day, the soldiers bounced anxiously in their place, contemplating Mulan's previous statement while they waited for her. _You may not recognize me tomorrow._ What was that supposed to mean? And, in addition to this strange behavior, she was late. Only the Gang of Three knew of her lack of punctuality, but they were still too puzzled to take this fact into account.

Finally, they saw her familiar figure ahead, but their confusion increased thousandfold when they did not see what they had expected to. What they did see was a girl of a completely different kind. She was small , like their Captain Fa, but was more lithe than skinny. She wore an extravagant dress of pink silk, a golden magnolia print decorating the fabric. She took long, graceful steps, almost giving the illusion of floating (unlike the aloof saunter of Captain Fa), a parasol bluer than the summer sky hiding her face.

As soon as she reached to gathering of men, she put on a modest, pretty smile. Lifting the parasol, she revealed a small, round face that was caked with white makeup. A black line dusted with purple powder shimmered on her eyelids, artificial pink sparkling on her cheeks. Her lips were painted the brightest of rouges and glistened with freshness. Her hair was blacker than midnight, help up by a pink ribbon decorated with a magnolia hairpiece. She was the picture of a China doll, causing nostalgia in the soldiers' hearts along with stirring their passions. Oh, but they would not be stirred for long, she thought.

"Today's lesson is no normal sparring match." Her voice was light and musical, barely recognizable. She suppressed a giggle at the soldiers' expressions; dumbfounded, of course. It was their Captain Fa, after all, but a side to her that they were most definitely not used to seeing.

_Hey, I like dressing up once in a while_... she'd added indignantly in her head, almost insulted by the thought.

"If you think yourselves so tough and manly, we shall see how easily you will defeat a woman in her proper formal dress." She set the blue parasol on the ground. Glancing at the faces of her inferiors which were still locked in shock, she smirked wisely.

"Don't make me raise my voice to prove who I am. Now, who would like to go first?"

A collective round of gulps could be heard, not one man stepping forth. _Fine,_ she thought. _I'll choose someone myself...Ahh, Feng doesn't look too comfortable. Let's choose him._

"Bao Feng, come here." A medium-build man with an uneasy look upon his face reluctantly walked towards his dainty captain. She was in full fighting stance, her decorated eyes narrowing slightly as if she were a hawk eying prey.

"Try your hardest, Feng. Work to beat me. Remember who I really am." She provoked him, red lips moving softly. Bao Feng's eyes narrowed, foolishly moving first. He attempted to throw a blow to her jaw, but her small pale hand caught his fist swiftly, her slipper-clad feet quickly and skillfully moving up to knock his arm away and deliver a hard kick to his gut. A loud 'oof!' was heard as he was knocked back on his rear, staring confoundedly at her tiny figure blocking out the sun.

"You might have to try harder next time."

Warrior after warrior tried to best her, each of them failing horribly and being defeated without scathing her in the slightest. She laughed softly at each of the pathetic pupils she overpowered. It seemed they still hadn't improved much.

As she was gloating, though, Mulan sensed footsteps behind her, and she turned suddenly to be met with the face of the General.

"May I have a chance?" he said, bowing respectfully to Mulan. She was caught with her words; he would never be so willing to participate in this in a normal state of mind (maybe a dip in the rice wine was accountable). But, sadly, she had no option but to accept.

"Why of course, General." She curtsied politely in return.

Locking eyes with each other, they began to move in a circle. Mulan noted how Shang moved like a tiger, his every step fluid as water. Though women were supposedly known to be graceful, she would seem an awkward klutz next to him. That was simply her personality, though; she had always been seen as clumsy.

It was easy for Mulan to predict when Shang would move. He jerked his slightly to the left, and his lips would purse for a split second before he would throw something at you. Very few had the lightning reflexes to match his moves, but luckily, she was blessed with such reflexes. Even still, Mulan had the barest second to react when she watched his head move left, and was almost unable to dodge the chop at her jaw.

Their soldiers watched as the two authorities sparred, each beating the opposite equally. Both mastered kick and blows, giving them as often as they were blocking them. Mulan attempted to knee Shang in the groin, but he had caught her, trying to twist her leg and knock her to the ground. He did not succeed, as she broke free from his iron grip and used her palm to knock his head back, missing his groin and grinding her leg into his thigh. He spun behind her, attempting to close his arms around the tiny girl and throw her to the grass once more, but to no avail. She spread her arms out, fists clenched, her arms shaking as she held his open palms in place. No matter how hard he forced against her, she would not break. _Like the mountain and the wind,_ she remarked to herself humorously.

His strenuous breaths tickled the back of her neck, warm air coming from him. His face was right behind her ear now, and she ignored her heart pounding against her chest. She could feel him smiling, his arrogant aura surrounding her.

She knew he was about to whisper something in her, able to tell just by the change of breath, but as soon as it began to leave his lips he was interrupted. The two of them always were, they would later know.

"General, uh... m'aam," The young messenger cleared his throat at the sight of Mulan in quite formal attire. He hadn't realized her identity, yet had certainly realized their position. "I have important news for you."

* * *

Mu Pai licked the plum sauce from his fingers.

"Ah, pot stickers. A simple joy of life at home, yet a supernaturally delicious wonder here." Pai ignored the ramblings of his friend Feng, picking up a fresh sticker and drowning it in sauce before popping it into his mouth. He rolled his eyes as another friend, Hsiao Meng, an gangly young man with a striking resemblance to Ling, retaliated to Feng's nostalgic mini-speech.

"Quiet, Feng, your family's too poor to eat real pot stickers," he said through a jovial laugh. Feng shot him a dangerous glare.

"You might wanna shut your mouth before you find my fist in it," he growled. Ming's brows shot up and he shrugged.

"If you can't beat Captain Fa, you can't beat me."

His skin glowed with held-back cackles, but returned to normal pallor when he just barely dodged a glob of rice aimed at his head.

"Oh, you wanna play?" His face scrunched into an impish grin, and not a moment later, Feng had cool plum sauce dripping down his own face. Deciding it was time to join in, Pai picked a pot sticker from his plate and tried to whip it at Ming's head, but Ming dodged it again and the sticker hit a tall, brawny and very dangerous-looking man in the back of the head.

A moment of silence followed, and then the entire mess tent broke out in a war of white rice, pot stickers and plum sauce.

* * *

Blocking off his hand and bringing up her foot, Mulan knocked the staff out of Shang's grip. Hiding a grin, she pressed her own staff against his bare, sweaty chest, her expression solemn and challenging.

A warm smile took over Shang's face.

"You have learned well, young grasshopper."

Pushing Mulan's staff away, he picked up his own and they fell into step with each other on their way out of the forest.

"What are you, a sage?" she said playfully, raising a brow at him. He chuckled.

"Far from it, Mulan."

Mulan let her shoulder nudge his as she smirked.

"Sometimes I don't know about you, with all your talk about _honor_ and _duty_," the words rolled off her tongue with venom dripping from them, and she let her hatred for them be known as her face twisted into a grimace. Shang rolled his eyes. She would never get used to those two things that bound them to tradition.

"Speaking of duty, how's the commander's life treating you?" he asked her amicably, trying to put her back into a good mood.

"It's mainly what I'd expected, and to a degree it was worse at the beginning. You see, back then, I could almost _see_ the hatred emanating from them. But they've grown to respect me, though it was a hard task to prove myself." she confessed.

"That's all part of leadership, Mulan. You have to earn the respect, especially in your case, but in everyone else's, too." He said it as if she didn't already know.

"I understand that." She sighed and her shoulders sagged. Shang looked at her with a friendly gaze.

"You just wish they hadn't been so condescending towards you." She nodded sadly.

Shang pursed his lips. She was so brave, fearless, remarkable in her courage, but any scorn coming from someone who meant anything to her could quickly tear her apart. She was like a child, always trying to prove herself, and so hurt if someone pointed out a mistake, as if she wanted everything she did to be seen as perfect. Worst of all, she let others' disapproval get to her, and it ruined the sparkling personality that was so distinctive to her.

"You can't let the naysayers affect you, Mulan. In the long run, the only people who matter are those who have enough sense _not_ to insult you."

Mulan nodded, but it wasn't too convincing. So she decided it was about time to turn the tables.

"So, what's the life of a general like?" she inquired, elbowing him sharply in the ribs.

"It's, eheh, um..." he rubbed the back of his neck, as if uncomfortable with the question.

"It's too much paperwork!" he finally cried with frustration. Mulan leaned back in surprise, them smiled kindly, shaking her head.

"Patience is key, grasshopper." She tried to keep her voice calm and serene as possible, holding up her index finger and raising her eyebrows. Shang chuckled—if he had been a girl, it very well could have been a giggle.

"What are you, a sage?" he asked jestingly, repeating her earlier words.

"Maybe."

Her answer surprised him. She smiled coyly, still looking forward. A lopsided smile infected his features.

Before he could reply, though, they had stepped onto camp grounds. It should have been serene, quiet and undisturbed, but the nearby mess tent had apparently contained some large and loud fiasco. Captain and General looked to each other in confusion, silently agreeing to investigate.

It was too loud, there was no possible way the soldiers could have heard them coming, not even if they had set off cannons right outside the tent. So the two did not waste time worrying about being stealthy and unsuspected, rather marching right into the tent; Mulan with curiosity, Shang with authoritative meaning.

They did not have much time to gaze at the chaos in awe, though. Bao Feng had aimed a sticky and gloopy handful of rice at Lo Kang, but the young body of the teenager was too limber for him to move slowly enough to let the rice find its target, and the glob pelted Mulan in the chest instead, making her stumble back from the force and the surprise. Shang caught her before she could lose her balance, though caught just as off-guard as she. The tent suddenly became silent.

The soldiers stood frozen, guilt and horror painted across their faces as their two superiors looked from the rice to them. They expected rage and a very loudly-announced punishment for themselves. They were about to get one from the General, but he halted as their Captain ran a finger through the glob of rice on her shirt and put it in her mouth.

"Mmm, needs more flavor. Cinnamon, perhaps." she said with an easy tone, turning towards Shang and insisting he have an input. He was shellshocked for a moment, before picking up a bowl from a nearby table and, using the chopsticks deposited in it, tasted a medium-sized amount of the rice. And then, suddenly, he began to laugh.

* * *

Mulan sighed as she felt the familiar tickle of Cri-Kee near her feet. The combination of his antennae and the dewy grass made her feet feel strange and tingly.

Tonight, the moon had been cut in half, and wasn't the dazzling sphere she so loved. It was also partially blocked by trees, so its light came down in milky beams across the forest's floor, flashing across her face as she walked along. When the pond came into view, she bowed her head and sped up, so the beams flitted across her hair.

She could feel the dew seeping into her pants as she knelt on the grass. For a moment, she stared at the placid water; then, curiouly, she dipped her toes into it. She drew back, shuddering audibly.

The late summer breeze was considerably warm, but Mulan knew it would soon be cold, signifying autumn's oncoming arrival. She sighed; Grandmother would know for sure when it would come, she thought.

Suddenly, a wave of nostalgia crashed through her and coursed through her blood like concrete in her veins. An image of her father appeared in the pond—standing tall despite his injury, a warm smile reaching his drooping eyes. And then, her mother materialized beside him, wearing the understanding smile that was trademark to only women. And then, her grandmother—wise, outrageous NiNi, always suggesting things she shouldn't. Soon, there was Little Brother, the chickens, the ancestral temple, the moon bridge, and the beautiful, weeping pink magnolia trees; it was her home.

She hadn't truly been homesick until now, even for the month and a half she'd been here. She now remembered how it had felt during the first campaign; she would cry herself to sleep most night, with only Mushu and her memories to comfort her. Now, crying was no option, for she had become much less reclusive this time and was more often than not surrounded. Her tent was also right next to Shang's, and should he hear her sobs, he would surely become worried and check on her.

Frustrated with grief, Mulan shoved her training shirt under the water, causing large ripples in the formerly still pond. Trying to ignore the hot liquid pooling at her eyelashes and falling past her cheekbones, she rubbed at the brown sauce stains vigorously with the soap her mother had packed for her. The song her mother would sing to her as a child, the one she lulled herself to sleep with after her nightmare, somehow inched itself into her brain, her mother's voice interlaced with the soft wind that swept through her hair.

Subconsciously, she joined her mother in singing, and the sour nostalgia turned sweeter and was finally laid to rest.

After the shirt had been washed, she dabbed some homemade magnolia perfume on the cloth to ward off the smell of perspiration, and brought the shirt to her face, relishing in the scent. It was the same smell of the gardens at home.

Breathing a contented sigh, she dried her cheeks and rose, falling back on the path and returning to camp once more.

Nearby, behind some bushes, Shang fell back on his haunches, his wide eyes itching as if he didn't believe what he'd just seen (or heard).

On his nightly walk, he'd heard singing. Not the singing he'd heard the maids at home do when they were working—no, what he'd heard was entirely different. Every note was perfect, no matter how high the pitch climbed. He figured that kind of glass voice would belong to a siren or a water fairy. When he investigated, though, he found the voice belonged to a certain mortal woman that he was quite familiar with.

She never ceased to surprise him. A beautiful young Sun Tzu enthusiast who dressed formally for sparring matches and sung in perfect crystalline tones, enduring the hard life of military training, as a captain no less. He had endless doubts that a woman like this would be found in even the wildest of dreams. The Emperor's old words, rang in his head; of course, the wise old man was more correct than Shang would ever know.

He laid back on the grass, breathing heavily and blinking. _Had_ he been dreaming?

Concluding that he must have been, he sprang to his feet and jogged back to camp, back to his peculiar relationship with this unique woman.


End file.
